Enjoy the Silence
by elle.writes
Summary: "Don't feel so worthless, Yuy." Duo grinned a little even though his lips hurt, cracked and likely bleeding because he tasted copper but he wasn't sure where it was coming from. "If I'm gonna die, I'm glad it could be with you." If Heero responded it was lost in a fit of dry, painful laughter. (Reverse Big Bang entry, rated M for language, violence.)


**Title:** Enjoy the Silence

**Pairings/Warnings:** 1+2+1, Duo-abuse, excessive cursing, vagueness, angst, references to child abuse and sex slavery

**Additional Notes:** This fic was written for the GW Reverse Bang and is based on a lovely piece of artwork by Suika. :D Yes, the title of this is borrowed from Depeche Mode's song of the same name, which I heard while writing this and found apropos.

Beta'd by Miss Murdered and obviously Gundam Wing, plots and characters, are not mine.

* * *

Duo coughed. His ribs screamed in pain and he closed his eyes, wheezed through it. His head pounded. He felt cold but he knew he was sweating. If he had to guess, he'd suspect he had a concussion. Or malaria. Or both. Definitely a fever. He opened his eyes carefully and glanced towards his partner who seemed to be somewhat better off – but then Heero always hid his shit better.

"Feel like I've used this line before, but this is one shitty way to die," he muttered.

Heero didn't even acknowledge him. Typical. He grunted and turned to lie on his back. His lungs felt heavy and he coughed again, phlegm and shit stuck in his raw, dry throat and he winced as he swallowed. This was fucking bad.

"Thought I was going to be able to rely on you to get me outta this shit buddy," he ground out and he heard Heero snort although he couldn't see him any longer.

Instead, he was staring up at the thatching above him, light streaming into the dirt pit they were currently residing in and for a moment he grinned. Thank fuck they weren't getting sunburnt down here too. The little things.

"I know – it was a damn good trap," he reflected and filled in the image of Heero nodding his head in resignation to that fact.

If Heero fell for it too that meant it wasn't quite as embarrassing, really. It looked like a simple enough operation – a couple Sudanese king pins smuggling guns through United Arab Nations connections. Easy to infiltrate, take out the distribution guy, steal some records to implicate the higher ups, blow the whole thing to kingdom come and take the next Preventer facilitated helicopter the hell outta that shit hole. Back in time for dinner.

But it didn't go quite like that as Duo wandered in on the unfortunate discovery that they weren't smuggling guns – they were smuggling children. And that complicated matters significantly. He couldn't blow the place any more and so when they caught him he had no threat, he had no out, and they took him down easy. What could he do? They had children – scrawny little half-starved things with paper-thin skin and scared eyes and fuck. He had to submit, wait for back up. And apparently his back up didn't fair much better than he did.

"Don't feel so worthless, Yuy." Duo grinned a little even though his lips hurt, cracked and likely bleeding because he tasted copper but he wasn't sure where it was coming from. "If I'm gonna die, I'm glad it could be with you."

If Heero responded it was lost in a fit of dry, painful laughter and Duo rolled a little side to side, the pain at this point so overwhelming he couldn't find himself caring if he was causing himself more or not. At least it was a reminder that he wasn't dead yet.

Then he laughed more, remembered now where he'd used that line. He was a damn optimistic little shit at fifteen.

"It was on Lunar Base, but 'Fei was with us then," he said, craning his neck to look at Heero whose eyes turned impassively towards him. "Remember?"

"Of course." Heero's words were soft and reflective and Duo turned his eyes away, suddenly embarrassed.

'Fucking blushing at a time like this,' he thought but he remembered Heero checking him over. He wasn't gentle but then Duo'd seen the guy set his own bones so what could he expect? Yet he wasn't unnecessarily rough, either. He was thorough and kind and as he reached his ribcage he paused, pressed his fingers lightly against bruised skin, and looked into his eyes. Duo had been watching him the whole time, enamored by the way his fingers worked over his body, wondering if that was how they looked when they moved over the control panel of Wing – if his brow furrowed like that, if the bridge of his nose crinkled the same way... and his stomach churned, an uncomfortable distraction from the pain of his injuries, as he considered that Heero was showing him the same care he showed his own suit.

So when their eyes met it felt like the expansion of a sun, engulfing everything in its path, whole planets drawn into the gravitational force of the explosion and Duo's breath caught with the intensity of the spark and for the briefest of moments he thought Heero might lean in and kiss him... But he didn't. Oh fuck, he wanted it so badly, more than he'd ever dared admit to himself but apparently Heero didn't. Instead, he asked quietly if where he was touching hurt and Duo cursed himself mentally for his wayward heart. He felt sure that Heero had felt something for him in that moment – how the hell could he not? But then...

"Shit," Duo muttered, looked from the dirt wall of the pit back to Heero. He was staring down, refusing to meet his eyes, and it kinda pissed him off. Heero knew they'd been dancing around this for as long as they knew each other. That singular moment was by far the tamest but then... Then it was also the beginning, the first mutual acknowledgment of what was maybe just sexual attraction, maybe just lust, and maybe something more than either one of them would ever be able to admit.

"Look, man, I'm not as stupid as I was then." The shades of meaning on that statement were more than Duo really felt like delving into at that moment. "We're gonna die here – at least I am – and I've gotta tell you –"

"Don't." Heero glared and Duo glared back, irritated. Here he was, about to pour out his damn heart, and Heero was telling him to stop?

"Fucking seriously man?" he growled through labored breaths as he turned back over on his side to face his partner. He cringed up into the fetal position as pain seared through him and he shivered in the Sudanese heat.

"I'm not the one who kissed you on Howard's damn... whatever the fuck..."

And despite the trembling words, that was the truth. Heero clearly kissed him. And the ship was called Peacemillion now, he realized that. Fuck. Pain lanced through his head and he couldn't think yet somehow that memory was so clear.

Slipping into the flight suit, that stretchy material having so much less give than you'd expect, feeling thick on his body, and the way those mechanical doors sounded as they slid open. He'd expected to see Quatre and he smiled when he looked up, not even thinking about the zipper still open all the way to his crotch until he saw damn Heero standing there, looking like he was going to try to melt steel with his eyes. Duo said his name as a question, asked if there was a change of plans. But Heero didn't speak. Instead he stalked over, dragged Duo against him and used his lips for something infinitely better than words.

It was awkward at first – the awkward kiss of two teenagers who'd never kissed anyone before, let alone each other. But it was also perfect for just that same reason and the ferocity Heero employed, the way his hands clung even tighter than the flight suit, the meaning of it at that pivotal moment when within a few short hours they might be dead, when this was the last time they may ever see each other even if they both managed to survive...

Duo kissed him back with the urgency of every kiss he'd wanted to initiate between them since their first meeting – in locker rooms and boarding schools, in hangar bays and hospitals. On Lunar Base when their eyes met and devastated everything around them and burned it to ash and yet they'd still done nothing.

And when it was over Heero continued to hold him, faces buried against each other's necks, just listening to the shared sound of breath and beating hearts and what was there to say before a moment such as this?

Now it was just the same as it always was and Heero was avoiding him again.

"Do you wish I hadn't?"

Duo was jerked from his memory by the question, searching through his muddled brain for why it was asked. Oh right. Did he wish Heero hadn't kissed him on Howard's damn whatever the fuck…?

"No, that time was fine – perfect," he breathed, eyes fluttering closed to remember Heero's lips on his again. "Some of the times after that, though..."

Like after that mission on that crumbling resource satellite in L4 that literally almost blew up in their face. Like on his honorary 20th birthday. Like that spontaneous bullshit in the gym when they were sweaty and horny and totally alone.

"Fair enough," Heero agreed sullenly, digging his heel into the sandy dirt beneath them, maybe thinking of all those same times too.

"Last year, at the Christmas thing, that was shit..." The words were weak but then the darkness underneath them leant them a bit more weight.

He was fucked up over the anniversary of the Maxwell Church Massacre, just like every year, and just like every year he got too drunk at the office party and Heero took advantage of that. Or at least that's how Duo felt, making out in the cold, wrapped in Heero's arms and the shadows of hotel columns like they were still damn fifteen because they never went beyond that and they didn't do it that often either but it felt so good and he wanted more. They weren't kids any more. Death wasn't looming over them the same way. Yeah, Preventer missions could be pretty damn dangerous but they had whole back up teams assigned to them and it wasn't like the war. And as their bodies, adult now, hard and rippling and full of need ground against each other Duo wondered...

"I'm just the war to you."

He'd never said it, never asked if it were true. Not then, six months ago as snow fell on Brussels, not even as Heero pulled away from him, his hands still questing out the parts of Heero's anatomy he hoped would keep that body tucked up tight against his, stupidly looking for some kind of completion in a man who continually refused to offer him anything.

"No."

"Yes," Duo argued back like a petulant kid, swallowing painfully around the thickness in his throat as he glared at Heero. He still refused to look at him. "The only reason we do this shit is because you get off on the danger. You get off on the memory of how it was then. You use me."

"I do not." But there was hesitance in the argument and that hurt almost worse than all his bodily injuries combined.

"Then why won't you fuck me?" His tongue felt heavy as the words rolled out of his mouth and he instantly regretted them. It was a stupid conversation to be having right now – sure as fuck didn't make a bit of difference what the answer was.

"Duo..." Heero's expression became pained but Duo couldn't guess why and he still wouldn't look at him. He wanted to crawl over and smack him. Or maybe force his chin up, make sure their eyes met, make Heero meet him and everything he was avoiding face to face.

"I'm not really asking for any fucking commitment."

His vehemence caused a coughing fit and he curled up around himself, wishing Heero'd throw him a damn bone and scoot a little closer but then the topic of conversation really didn't lend itself to that kind of affection and anyway it was more than clear that kind of compassion wasn't exactly Heero's strength.

"I just wanted... I just... fuck." He closed his eyes again and rocked his head against the ground. It was too difficult to think. If Heero was his back up then it'd be at least two more days before additional back up came and fuck he was pretty sure there was some kind of internal bleeding going on and maybe this whole argument really wasn't worth it. He really was going to die in this pit. Maybe he should just shut up and appreciate the view.

"Why won't you say anything?" he muttered, pain radiating from his ribs as they scraped the ground with every breath. "I'm going to fuckin' die here, buddy."

"No."

Duo blew out a harsh breath but it was shallower than he would've liked and so he rolled his eyes to add some emphasis. "I know you're used to getting your damn way but you can't just demand someone not die, you know."

"You're not going to die," Heero repeated, deliberately, and Duo squinted at him to see him more clearly.

He sure didn't seem like he got quite as fucked up as Duo did upon his incarceration in this pit. In fact, Heero almost seemed untouched, now that he looked at him a bit closer. Fucking figured. One drunken night they'd added up all the time they'd spent in prisons and all the injuries they'd sustained during the war and Duo had them all beat – combined. Though Heero and Trowa both allowed themselves handicaps for the months they didn't really remember. Wasn't fair to count a self-destruct when Duo'd attempted it himself and failed. Or so the argument went.

"Okay, okay I can see your point," he muttered as lightly as he could manage, figuring if Heero survived mobile suit detonation and Duo survived all the beatings he took than it did seem dumb to die in a pit in Sudan. Especially when there were fucking shipping crates of kids up there being sold into slavery. Fuck. How did he forget about that? He couldn't die here and leave them un-avenged. Make sure every bastard that ever thought that kind of shit was okay was imprisoned for a damn long time or, preferably, dead.

"But if I don't make it, you gotta promise me to fuck these fucking fucks," Duo growled, watching Heero chuckle at as his eloquence.

"Seriously though. Promise." It wasn't a question, it was a demand. It was the reason he was fucked up every Christmas, even if Heero didn't know it, even if he never told anyone.

Father Maxwell saved him from that fate. Maybe he bitched and complained, maybe he stole and fought, but he acted out because he didn't know how to do anything else – because he knew he didn't deserve it. He never got sick like the other orphans and was never caught, never sold for sex, and he could never reconcile why. Maybe it was God. At least, that's what Sister Helen would've said, but he didn't believe in God – never did – and even if he did he was sure he'd have had to pay for his sins somewhere along the line if God was in any way just. So instead of that nonsense, he preferred to think of his role during the war as remuneration for the unbelievable stroke of luck he'd experienced as a child.

But that made it all the more difficult to be confronted with the reality that shit like that was still occurring, after everything, after how he fought to bring peace to the people so that everyone had a chance at happiness. Children were still being abused. His efforts weren't enough – his tithing a failure.

"I'm not promising that," Heero said, his tone cool and dismissive and Duo growled from deep in his throat. Heero was really going to fuck him now? After everything? After all those years of literally not fucking him he couldn't even do this one thing?

"Because Shinigami isn't dying here and you'll 'fuck those fucking fucks' yourself."

The breathless laughter had him nearly immediately wheezing, every bone in his body protesting but fuck it, Heero bringing up his long abandoned alter ego and then saying 'fuck those fucking fucks' was too much, too close. Too ridiculous.

"Good to see I rubbed off on you a bit, anyway," he murmured, barely a whisper, and closed his eyes as he recovered from the pain. Even if he didn't rub him quite the way he wanted. Maybe it was better this way. At least now Heero was only losing a friend, a comrade, a partner – not a lover too.

"Duo."

He took a moment, savored the way Heero said his name just then – a sweet balm to the agony that gripped his body – before cracking open his eyes to acknowledge him.

"You shouldn't think you mean so little to me."

Despite himself, despite the pain, his heart began pounding in his chest as Heero leaned forward in the cramped space. Duo tilted his head, face staring up as Heero moved over him, eyes meeting, noses only a few inches away.

"Can you feel your heart beating now?" The words were barely a whisper and Duo nodded and coughed, the tang of blood filling his mouth suddenly.

"Then you know you're alive."

Heero moved a little closer. Duo's heartbeat increased in anticipation of a kiss. It was stupid, really, a pretty dumb fuck move as fucked as he was, and yet he still wanted it, still wanted that little show of affection – even though it meant nothing. It never had. It never would. At least not to Heero. Not the way he wanted it to.

And it was too late now but those lips were so close and those eyes were so blue, rimmed by dark lashes that made them stand out even more and he wanted to reach out and touch his face but his limbs felt so damn heavy and he just couldn't.

"I wish I could quit you," he breathed, lips barely moving, eyelids closing, so eager to feel Heero's mouth on his own one last time.

One last indulgence before he was finally offered reprobation. Before he could finally rest. It just hurt so damn bad. He never complained but fuck. He wanted to grab Heero, drag him down, make him hurry the fuck up before he passed out without his last damn perfect kiss.

But when he opened his eyes next it wasn't to the gentle caress of Heero's tongue and lips – it was to the unfathomable pain of being dragged out of that pit by his arms. His dislocated shoulder definitely wrecked the lion's share of the misery on him, pain blossoming behind his eyes which searched frantically for Heero – but there was nothing. Not a trace of him. Not even an indentation where Heero's heel had ground itself into the dirt. Had the whole thing been a hallucination? Christ – what the fuck was wrong with him...?

He didn't really have time to think about it as his vision blanked for a minute with the intensity of his injuries and he swung madly with all limbs like a thing possessed, an old habit he could never quite break. When he found purchase he would rip and tear with his nails, snarling, sensing the people moving around him even before his vision came back in a white wash of lightheadedness.

Duo was thrown haphazardly into a room and the door was slammed and locked. He wasn't sure exactly how long he lay on the cool floor but he came to shivering despite how good it felt on his clammy skin. When he tried to get up nausea rolled over him from the pain and he heaved, stomach clenching desperately but he just spit blood and bile on the floor, barely able to maintain a position on his hands and knees. His whole body shook from fever and stress and lack of sustenance. Distantly, he thought he heard an explosion, gunfire.

The room was dark but he scanned it quickly, realizing it was some kind of medical closet. He didn't understand exactly why he'd been thrown in here but he knew he had to act quickly because despite everything he was now in a position of power.

Shakily he stood, groping for something to lean on and finding a high medical table and what appeared to be supply cabinets. Quickly and without much thought so that he couldn't psyche himself out, he crouched, leaned his upper arm against the table, took a deep breath, and banged his shoulder back into place. Fuck. Watching Heero do this kind of shit was a lot easier than doing it himself, that was for damn sure. He swallowed back another wave of nausea, knowing it would produce nothing, and began throwing open any drawer within reach, analyzing their contents mostly by feel.

For a minute, he worried that his mind was fucking with him again as trembling fingers found bandages and he tore at the sterile packaging. Maybe the firefight he'd heard outside was all in his mind. There would be brief moments of silence – brief moments that could've lasted hours for all the fuck he knew – and during those moments he would swear he was just fucking mad but then he'd hear voices, more bullets and he'd think of those kids and he'd think he needed to get the fuck out of there.

Duo tore off his shirt, moved quick fingers over his body to assess open wounds. His arm got a swath of bandaging, his head too, which he was less than pleased to note was actively bleeding since he was moved. God, at this rate he was going to look like a damned mummy he realized and stopped, threw the bandages in his pocket and said fuck it. It was time to go.

On a hasty once over of anything he might be able to take with him his fingers met with the edge of a blade and he pulled it out just as voices reached the doorway. The banging on the door seemed to rattle the whole room and reverberate uncomfortably in his brain. He fought to remain conscious as the idiots on the other side realized he was locked in and they threw open the door.

Duo snarled and rushed forward clumsily but he raked the knife out in front of him, feeling it connect with a target and hearing a litany of curses damning him to the seventh circle of hell as hands pushed him roughly back into the table.

"This is Preventer."

It was a deep man's voice and he wanted to laugh – what was this, some kind of fucked up protocol way of determining friend or foe? Like that was going to work on a bat shit crazy dude, banged up and bloody, wielding a knife. Surely to fuck rookies were trained better than that and he couldn't force himself to believe for half a second that these dicks were actually some kind of back up. Either it was a lie or his mind was fucking with him because there was no damn way he was getting treated like this. And anyway, if Heero wasn't in that pit with him, Heero should've been his back up. Or maybe he was and Heero was just drug out first. It was too much for his aching head to contemplate and he decided to just treat every fuck as an enemy combatant until he got the hell out of there and found someone he knew.

"Fuck, it's _him_," came the reedy voice from the figure clutching his forearm.

Duo could hardly make him out, his brain swimming as it tried to take in all the imagery in the shift of lighting as well as support his body in an upright position and formulate a plan to get out of this room. He didn't know what that statement meant, the implication being that he was someone these fucks were they were looking for, and he gnashed his teeth dangerously.

"You're going to have to come with us," the first voice said and Duo's head snapped in that direction. The sudden movement did nothing for his vision or his nausea but he could still see the shape of the man moving quickly towards him and he lashed out again, feeling the knife meet resistance. Hands were on his arms but he fought – kicking, slashing, clawing, and biting at anything that got near enough until both men were cursing and retreating.

He heard the door lock once more, closing him in darkness again, pissed off voices disappearing down the hallway. Panting shallowly and exhausted he lay down on the table for a moment to catch his breath. Fuck, but if he thought he was in pain before now... Even to him his chest seemed to move too little for the level of exertion he'd just managed and he felt like he couldn't breath, lungs clogged with fluid and shit and he coughed what he knew had to be blood by the taste onto the table. To be honest, he was surprised he'd made it this long and he wondered how much longer he'd manage. He wasn't sure he could take another round of that. Frankly, that few minutes of exertion might've removed the possibility of his escape completely.

His eyelids slid closed, forehead pressing into the table, and he thought of Heero in that pit with him and how they almost kissed and he thought of the first time he saw him and how he felt when he realized there was someone else like him, someone with the same skills and training and goals and aspirations and once again he found he wasn't alone. He thought about how much he regretted the things he didn't say now. At the time, it seemed like words would only make things worse, more awkward and uncomfortable or... whatever. But now it seemed like the weight of all those long foregone words might crush him under what it meant that they'd never be said. Fuck.

Fists clenched and he felt a sob rise painfully in his chest and he was afraid he'd start crying and really that was the least acceptable thing he could be doing right now but he was so utterly, truly fucked. He didn't want to die here. He was just getting used to the idea that he might live into old age. He'd just put down a deposit on a condo, booked a vacation to visit Hilde, bought a king sized mattress to go in his new place. Hell, he was even considering asking that cute blond receptionist with the buzz cut and the little dimples on the first floor out to dinner but now he'd never get the chance.

It seemed funny and he chuckled weakly as a few strained tears hit the table. The reality was he probably wouldn't have done anything differently even if he had known it would only come to this. His death wasn't going to change the way Heero felt about him – having shared his feelings would've only resolved his own personal guilt and hell, maybe he would've been having the opposite thought right now instead, that he wished he'd never said anything at all.

"You don't want to go in there, sir," came a voice in the hall and he could hear the pounding of feet as they stopped outside the door. Duo sucked in a breath, fingers tightening around the handle of the knife once more and he sat up unsteadily.

"I'll go _where the fuck I want_," came the furious retort and Duo's chest heaved as he recognized the voice but quickly squashed any hope.

"But sir –"

"Did you receive _any_ damn training?" He'd never heard that tone from Heero, so irrational and angry. Normally, Heero kept his cool in any situation, levying backhanded insults with poise and control. Now it sounded like he was going to rip the guy's head off and shit down his throat. "When I get back to HQ I'm going to make sure Chang _personally_ retrains all you idiotic _fucks_. You can't just assume someone who's been through the shit he has would react rationally in a situation where he was beaten and tortured."

Silence descended swiftly and Duo began to worry he'd imagined the whole exchange. It was Heero's voice but then it sure didn't sound like him. He sounded stressed, pissed, but Heero was always so shut down on missions. And then his voice was calling again, softly, in a way he rarely ever heard Heero speak.

"Duo. Duo, it's me, Heero. I'm going to come in there slowly so you can see I'm telling the truth. I'm unarmed."

For his part, Duo tucked the knife behind his back, waiting to see if it really was Heero or just his mind fucking with him. His fingers gripped the handle so hard they hurt but then what didn't hurt? The door eased open slowly, allowing his eyes to adjust to the light, unlike the last time someone came in. He squinted, trying to make out Heero's form as the dark figure shut the door slowly behind him until there was just a crack left.

"Duo," he repeated and Duo turned towards his name, squinting as his vision started to become clearer. True to his word Heero was approaching slowly. He began making out the sweeping bangs over his eyes, the familiar form wrapped in a Preventer jacket, hands held up in a motion of openness. His fingers began to tremble on the knife, not wanting to let himself believe that Heero was here, again, that he came for him. Not that Heero wouldn't but just... he was so certain he was going to die here and to see Heero again was just... it was too much to hope for.

"Duo, it's okay," he was standing close now, maybe only a foot away before he stopped. "It's me."

His grip tightened on the knife reflexively even as his breath hitched and his body began to shake and all he could really do was mutter out a weak, "Heero?"

"What did they do to you?" he said all at once and then Heero's arms were around his body, holding him gently, and Heero's face was buried in his neck, Heero's hair tickling along his collarbone and the smell of Heero's skin sweet and clean and Duo was shaking so badly he didn't think he could stand it as his fingers loosened on the knife and it clattered on the table.

"Not gonna lie, feel pretty shitty, buddy," he rasped with a cough and leaned into Heero's solid frame but Heero moved back, hands cupping his face more gently than they ever had before, fingertips moving across his cheeks lightly, appraising the bones of his face as he checked for breaks.

"I was so scared," Heero whispered, eyes locked on his and Duo's brows furrowed in confusion. His head still hurt and it didn't make sense to him. "You were out of contact for nine days. We couldn't even get a lock on your locator."

Duo felt gutted as the days all blurred together and he'd had no concept that he'd been out that long. Heero must've seen the confusion in his eyes and his fingers stopped their rapid movement and instead just held him, grounding him even as he shivered in the unfathomably cold heat.

"I realized when my child trafficking case lead to the UAN that it was a cover-up – that your assignment would fail – but it was too late." Heero paused, fingers tightened for a minute on Duo's face and it was uncomfortable but he accepted it as he felt dizzy and it brought him back. "We're not even in Sudan any more. They relocated you to Somalia to try to hide you. Tried to use you as a hostage but Trowa –"

Heero's words ended abruptly but Duo knew what he would say and why he wouldn't say it. Trowa had no reservations about killing, especially not anyone who threatened one of them. And Heero disagreed so instead of saying the words that hurt him he shrugged out of his jacket, wrapped it around Duo's shoulders and the smell of him was intoxicating and the warmth of the jacket heavenly and Duo pulled it tight around his body. And then Heero's hand was on the back of his neck and Heero's forehead was pressed against his and Heero's arm came around to embrace him tenderly once again and Heero's lips ghosted across his cheek.

"I... I don't want to lose you."

The words were nearly imperceptible but Duo's heart began pounding in his chest again and he prayed silently that Heero wouldn't leave him again, that this wasn't his imagination. But then Heero felt so real and his mouth on his skin burned, and his heart ached as Heero's breathing became uneven and he held him as close as possible without aggravating his injuries.

"I can't do this any more, I... I thought I could protect us both," his words were tremulous and interrupted by a light knock on the door. Duo tensed immediately, fingers habitually seeking the dropped knife, ineffectually curled up against his chest.

"Can I come in?" a voice asked softly and Duo was surprised, confusion flooding through him.

"Sally?" he asked shakily and Heero moved back to look him in the eyes again, nodding slowly.

"I requisitioned her because I know she's the only one you trust," he explained, thumb stroking his cheek.

Duo smiled even as he cringed in pain, finally feeling overcome by his injuries after the exertion, the stress, and the lack of adrenaline. He coughed again, felt blood thick in his throat and Heero pressed Duo's head into his shoulder even as he began divulging a laundry list of injuries to Sally. Injuries Duo didn't even realize he had. Fever, concussion, broken ribs, internal contusions, bleeding. He lost track. His head spun.

He was laid out on a stretcher and everything seemed to be happening so fast then and he felt so weak but he forced himself to stay awake, sought out Heero's eyes desperately but Heero was there, holding his hand. He wasn't going anywhere.

"Duo?"

His eyes snapped open at Heero's voice and he didn't even realize he'd closed them but now he was in a helicopter, he could tell, all the mechanical equipment, and it felt like it was preparing for lift off and Heero was staring at him so intently. Heero seemed too pale and it confused him but his pain was slowly dissipating and his ability to care went with it even as he tried to maintain eye contact with the man who meant so much to him.

"You can rest now Duo I just want you to know –" the pressure on his hand increased but it didn't hurt and Heero's eyes shone but Duo couldn't be sure why "– I'm sorry I never said it before but –"

Duo closed his eyes. Smiled. Slipped into sleep.

It was the only thing he wanted to hear.

_I love you._


End file.
